The Captain
by Austin B
Summary: In the midst of the battle in Manhattan, a citizen aids the Avengers in saving the world. Afterward, Stark assists the Captain in seeking her out and she affects the fate of them all. Somewhat A/U. Captain America/OC short fluffy love story
1. Chapter 1

New York was chaos. Absolute and utter destruction. No one knew what to do...where to go. The police were hilariously and terrifyingly useless. The people ran about, confused, panicked. The Captain and the demi-God were on the ground, attempting to rescue citizen life one by one. It seemed puny, but neither could abandon it.

A woman awoke on the cold, hard concrete, glass imbedded in her forearm, blood pooling about her. She sat up, choking on the smoke that seemed to push out all the air in the open street. Her beautiful new day dress was torn, the floral and tulle tattered and stained. She mourned for a moment the hand-stitched frock, the screams and explosions about her a low din in her ears. One shoe was missing from her small feet. The ringlets that fell upon her ears bounced in her vision before she fully recalled the events that led her to this spot.

Her city was under attack. She came fully awake to take in her surroundings. A bus overturned at her left was the source of much of the screams that dulled her senses. She scrambled toward it, discarding her remaining shoe to restore her balance. All at once, the noise and fear hit her, nearly knocking her down, but she kept her resolve, seeing a young girl's face in the bus's window. Through a crack in one window near the rear of the bus, she shoved a further passage and drew out the passengers, one by one, instructing them, through some dazed sense of survival, to head toward the nearest subway. The destructive, alien beings passed by them, turning their ammunition toward the bigger threat: the man with the impenetrable shield and the man with the dangerous hammer. The woman turned her glance toward them momentarily as she handed the very last bus passenger safely to the ground and out of the steel trap. Who they were, what they were doing was not for her to understand. Survival was for her to understand.

She dashed after the last passenger she assisted in freeing, until a 'Pew! Pew!' above her head had her rolling once again on the broken concrete of the street. She heard a high shriek pierce the air and realized, belatedly, that it had come from her, upon seeing the fresh gash that had torn her pale thigh. A harsh, cold hand slid round her delicate throat and hauled her up. Her toes dangled inches from the pavement and she choked for air. Mercifully, she was lowered, and the grip loosened to the point where she could just barely breathe. Her vision was blurry, but she was able to make out a red, white and blue beacon just in front of her, speaking to the monster that held her in strong, stern tones.

"Let her down, Loki, your fight is with us," he said.

A low rumble vibrated from behind her and permeated her. Whoever had invaded her beautiful city held her literally in his palms. And he laughed. He laughed!

"So weak, humans. Your inferior species does not understand the concept of sacrifice. A few in exchange for a great many."

Her vision focused, quite suddenly, on the anguished face before her. His mask had been torn away, but she was quite certain it was the man, the hero, whom her father had worshipped when a child. In those innocent days, when the world needed saving, Captain America had rescued them, saving her father, and in turn, saving her. She'd know that face anywhere.

The few who knew her intimately would not call her a ferocious woman, but in that moment, when her Captain came into clear vision, she grew angrier than she could ever recall being.

"Weak my ass," she ground out between clenched teeth and threw her similarly clenched fist upward toward the general direction of the poisonous words spewing from his mouth. She hit paydirt as her tender knuckles smashed against teeth. At the same moment, she stomped her bare heel upon the foot that she could see in her peripheral, and swung her other fist toward where she felt the juncture of his legs. As he doubled over, she threw herself upon the ground and rolled away as far as she could, feeling new glass cutting into her tender flesh. She felt like a porcupine, as though every inch of her were covered in gashes.

The 'Pew! Pew!' of some sort of weapon she'd never heard of slashed through the air. A scuffle followed and a

"Is he secure?"

"Yes, Captain."

She felt a gentle tug at her elbow and pulled her head from under her hands. The Captain helped her to her feet with concern in his blue eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

The buildings were crumbling about them, and he was concerned for one person? She felt as though she might cry. She also felt as though she might vomit, so a quick nod was all she could muster.

"Thank you." he said quietly.

"No," she breathed, acting purely on instinct. "Thank you."

She thought he may have smiled a little before he turned away to rejoin his teammates, the group of amazing individuals who would come to be known as the Avengers.

She wandered home in a daze, taking care to skirt around the lifeless alien bodies that littered the streets like garbage. She would not recall later how she managed to come to be sitting in her club, amidst the concerned faces of the staff who'd been preparing for her annual soiree.

To all the questions fired at her, she was silent, until she muttered, with a giddy smile that, to those about her, indicated shock, "I met Captain America."


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, the Avengers had cleaned themselves off and dressed their wounds. As they saw Thor and Loki off to Asgard, Steve watched Natasha tilt her head back to Clint, who seemed to never be more than 5 feet from the lethal, beautiful agent, and say something to elicit a rare smile from the tormented archer. It made Steve smile in kind, to see such love after such destruction.

Once the demi-Gods had gone, the spies peeled away to God knows where, as long as they were together, and Banner and Stark prepared to geek out in whatever R&D haven the Iron Man had promised to show the scientist. But before they could go, Steve interrupted them. His vintage bike was waiting, calling him, but there was a thought he couldn't seem to part with. It would do no harm to ask, other than a mild jibe, and Steve had learned the hard way how the regret of things undone could hurt a man.

"Stark," he said. At his voice, Stark halted in his tracks with the quickness of a soldier, but masked it with the confidence and aloofness that he presented to the world.

"Hey, whatsup, Cap? You know I hate long goodbyes, let's make this quick."

"I was just wondering, did you see that woman, in the street yesterday? Loki had grabbed her and she punched him in the nose," he recalled with a half smile.

Stark laughed, "That little spitfire? Yeah, I think I woke up in time to see her drop him. I'll see what I can do," he said with that roguish grin that he always kept near. Steve blushed and stuttered an excuse, but found it unnecessary. Who knew the self-involved egomaniac could be so perceptive to the goings-on of others? Steve felt a suddenly strong affection for the man that could only be attributed to the camaraderie of war. They shook hands and parted. Steve fired up his bike, the roar of the engine vibrating through him, the anticipation of what Stark's genius could uncover on the woman who'd helped save the planet singing past his ears like the wind as he made his way down the coast.

Jeanette had a task at hand. Her club had been all but demolished, and she needed to get it up and running again as soon as possible. There was no time like after a tragedy for people to need a distraction, a sense of comfort. Though when she began this business five years ago she hardly expected an alien invasion and had therefore not purchased the insurance that would cover the damages. State Farm did not consider a foreign invasion a 'natural disaster'.

So, she spent her nest egg on getting her doors open again, and within the week, her dance floor was teeming with sock hoppers. Wearing an old dress with her chin up, after all, wasn't 'Make do and Mend' the homefront attitude of war?, she twisted and danced through the night.

She swapped war stories with her long-time patrons, after a long hug and swiping away their mutual tears. Though she found, after the initial shock-induced telling of the complete and actual truth, that she left out the part about the villain Loki and the Captain when passing on the tale. The coworkers who'd heard the full, dazed tale swapped knowing glances as she kept the juiciest details to herself. It certainly didn't keep them from telling it. Her brush with the hero had certainly stuck with her, and she thought she deserved to be selfish enough to keep that one small part of his heroics to herself. God knows he had shown enough of it that day to elevate him in the world's opinion. Jeanette thought of him often, smiling, glad that there was at least one gentlemen left in the world, one true hero. And knowing that she had brushed against it left her glowing, ready to heal as much of the world as one normal, meager human woman could.

There was a chirping. Something clicking that should not have been. Steve heard his sat phone through his open motel room door. The concept of these 'wireless' devices still had him a bit confused, but he searched for it in his luggage, not knowing yet how or why it worked, only knowing that someone on the end of the line needed him.

His 'vacation' had not been as successful as he'd hoped. The world was new and different and amazing, but he still hadn't seemed to come down off the edge of battle since one week ago, when the survival of the earth rested upon the shoulders of a rag tag band of superhumans who could barely tolerate each other. He was jumpy, tense and frustrated, so he welcomed the distraction of the mysterious sat phone and whoever was on the other end.

"Hello?" he said, bringing the device to his face. It continued to chirp. "Oh." He punched the green button on the keypad. 'Green means go.' Agent Romanoff had kindly instructed him as she gave him the device before she and her partner rode off.

"Hello?" he tried again.

"Hey loverboy!" Stark's unmistakably nonchalant voice rang through as clear as though he were standing next to him. Steve jolted a bit. This modern technology sure took some getting used to.

"Stark," he greeted. Though the 'billionaire playboy philanthropist' had warmed considerably in his opinion, they were far from being buds.

"Hey I turned up something on your Loki-punching lady love. I'm sending it to your phone. Good lu-uuck!" he sang as he severed the connection.

"Sending it to my phone?" Steve repeated, beyond confused, as he stared at the device. It chirped as a box emerged on the screen. A woman's face popped up in the left hand corner.

"Oh," he breathed. It was the girl who'd acted on pure instinct in the midst of chaos, assisting others to safety and then helping to apprehend the demi-God bent on Earth's destruction. He nearly chuckled to think of her bewilderment when he had looked into her green eyes, but his laugh stuck in his throat upon admiration. She was smiling in the picture, which could have made her difficult to identify, since her expression was mostly blank with a hint of anger in it the day he'd met her.

But it was truly her, he could tell from her beautiful, big, almond-shaped and vividly green eyes. Her name was Jeanette Richmond, and she resided in Manhattan. Of course she did. He didn't know why he'd strayed so far from the island. Perhaps he wasn't confident in Stark's ability to locate one woman among millions. He wouldn't doubt him again.

If Steve could just find her and thank her, satisfy his curiosity, maybe he could finally relax and put the battle of New York City to rest. That was the plan, anyway, and he was feeling more relaxed already as he headed back toward the city.


	3. Chapter 3

The grainy security video footage from the ATM across the street showed her, plain as day, fly her tiny fist up into the God of mischief's nose. After two more precisely placed hits, he doubled over, and she rolled out of the way to allow Steve the hit that knocked Loki down hard enough to be restrained by his brother.

On the tiny screen, Steve watched, for the hundredth time, himself gently tug the woman up onto her feet. He couldn't hear what was said between them, the security video had no sound, but he could practically see the stars in his eyes as he looked down at her. He second guessed himself nearly a million times as he neared the entrance of the Dankeshene, the club that she owned. The info Stark sent him said that she'd opened the swing club nearly five years ago, and he thought she might be more approachable there than if he intruded at her home. At least, he hoped.

He halted in front of the door, a bit wary of the loud, fast music coming from within. In daily, modern life, he usually felt a bit lost. After a moment, though, he recognized the tune. A big band was playing a great rendition of Take the A-Train. His apprehension vanished, and for a brief moment he felt like himself again, at home, and he pushed through the door.

Softness enveloped him. The place was plush and dimly lit, though well enough to see how high the dancers on the large black and white tiled floor threw their partners. A large crystal chandelier hung above the center of the dance floor, and red velvet booths lined the curtained walls. The place was nearly packed with ladies in full-skirted polka dot dresses and men in suits and ties. In the center of the dance floor Steve found the face he was looking for, the face he'd become rather familiar with from the information Stark had sent him.

She danced with an unremarkable man that the kind Captain found instantly offensive. But Jeanette moved with such grace and ease that he softened toward her current partner. She twirled away, with a bow to her partner as he sought out another dancer. She strode through her club, greeting her regulars with hugs, some more vehement than others, as though she hadn't seen them since a great tragedy had struck and she was thankful to see them alive.

Suddenly his plan of meeting her to satisfy his curiosity and thank her for her bravery vanished. Since waking up many months ago, Steve had never felt hopeful for the future until now.

She passed by within an arm's length of him, but his breath stuck in his throat as he reached out to her. She seemed to sense him and turned. Shock lit her face momentarily, and delight quickly followed. He was dumb beneath the full wattage of her grin.

"Thank God you're here," she said, her voice felt like satin and soft velvet, like being swaddled in a warm blanket. She reached out her hands, "someone's gotta show these cats how to swing." He reached up to take her hands as she drew him toward the floor.

"Oh, ma'am, I'm not sure I remember how," he said with a blush when they reached the floor and he regained the ability to speak.

"Captain, I believe they say swinging is like riding a bike. You never truly forget." With her graciously leading him until he regained his footing, they danced. And she was right, with the assistance of the atmosphere, music and the general thrill flowing through the room, he danced like it was 1943. Not that he'd had much occasion to dance before, but he still knew all the steps. Jeanette grinned so beautifully he felt a matching smile spread over his own face.

When the song was over she drew him by the hand toward the bar. He watched, entranced, as her full skirt brushed past others in the room. It had been seventy years since such he'd experienced such a luxury.

"What're you drinking, Captain, it's on the house," she said, leaning her elbow onto the dark wooden bar as the beautiful and tattooed bartender waited with a patient smile.

"Um, nothing for me, thanks."

Jeanette smiled graciously and turned toward the bartender, "I'll have a glass of Mountain Cab, Desiree. Thank you dear." When she turned her attention again to him, Steve found it a little hard to breathe.

"Captain, I'm Jeanette," she held out her hand. He felt shockingly inadequate at the moment. She seemed entirely unperturbed, while he was sure he was fumbling around like a fool.

"Jeanette," he repeated dumbly. "Steve Rogers," he shook her hand gently. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine. Tell me, how did you stumble upon us?"

Steve chuckled bashfully, running his hand over his head to the back of his neck, "Well honestly, I had a friend find you for me."

This time she blushed. Even in the dimly lit room it was a sight to see, and it bolstered his confidence greatly. So she was not unaffected. "Would this friend be Tony Stark?"

"Yes." He laughed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to..." He wasn't quite sure exactly what he didn't mean to, but her smile washed away his misgivings.

"I'm glad you found me. I certainly never thought I'd see you again, but I've thought of you often."

"You have?" he asked, and nearly cringed at the hope he clearly heard in his voice. Cool it, Steve, he chastised himself.

"Of course. How could I not? Meeting a hero? I doubt that'll ever happen to me again," she said with a giddy smile, and Steve began to realize that she might be just as nervous as he.

"Well, I could probably introduce you to a few more," he boasted and her eyes squinted charmingly as she laughed.

"You sure know what to say to a girl," she said as her drink arrived. "Thank you Desi." She gestured toward an empty booth and he followed her.

As they sank in, she remarked, "So, I made such an impression that you sought me out?" Her cheeks blazed a becoming pink. He grinned, feeling drunk though his lips hadn't touched liquor in years.

"Can you blame me? A beautiful woman fights off a demi-God and saves the world. I think that's someone worth knowing."

She blushed deeper, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "I'd hardly say I fought him, merely provided a distraction."

"Still, I wish they all knew you as they know us. You were equally responsible."

She chuckled and said humbly, "You're too generous."

"Hardly," he refuted. He felt light, and a little dizzy, as a smile played about his lips.

She seemed to lose grip on her careful composure as he looked at her with admiration, and she lost track of what was gracious to say. Luckily for her, though unluckily for him, his sat phone chirped again.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologized as he searched for it through his pockets. When he found it, he seemed equally confused as to what to do with it. She reached forward with a tentative, "May I?"

"Please."

She hit the answer button and Director Fury's tinny voice blared through even the sound of the jazzy trumpet on stage.

"Captain? Do you read?"

"Yes Director?" he said, standing and mouthing an 'Excuse me' to Jeanette, who merely dipped her head in assurance.

"I've got a job for you. Are you in?"

He longed to be useful in a world where everything he'd ever known was considered a relic, but for the first time, the Captain sighed at being pulled away. "Of course. I'll be there in ten."

"Sorry about that. Um..." he handed the phone to Jeanette and she disconnected the call for him.

"Duty calls?" she asked.

He nodded. "I'm sorry to leave so soon," he said.

"Me too. But please, come back soon, the drinks are always on the house for you, Captain," she said with such reverence that brought a hot tinge to his cheeks.

"Jeanette," he said in parting as he took her hand in his before leaving.

When he'd gone, Jeanette dazedly made her way through the crowd, taking hands and kissing cheeks, trying desperately to remember what on earth she and Captain America had just talked about. When she arrived at her spare bed in the small loft above the club, she collapsed upon it with a sigh. She had been caught totally and completely unawares. Never in her vivid imagination could she have conjured this. Steve Rodgers had remembered her. Not only that, he'd searched for her! She giggled to herself, feeling like the biggest, most beautiful diamond in the world.

When she'd caught sight of him standing there in her club, looking at her with a sort of surprised expression, she thought she was hallucinating. She had no idea what she'd said, but thanked God for the good charm all those old movies she'd watched had given her.

Now that the idea had been suggested, all sorts of crazy things ran through her mind. What if he came back? What if she saw him again? She giggled, kicking her feet against her mattress.

"I believe I've just had the best night of my life," she said softly to herself, still grinning madly. The grin would not leave for days.

* * *

I have no idea where this is going. In the back of my mind I'm thinking up some action in the near future, battle-wise and romance-wise ;)

The outline in my mind will be around 8-10 chapters. What do you think? Should I continue?


	4. Chapter 4

My lovely reviewers and followers, this is for you!

* * *

He'd been the only Avenger left in the area, and convenient to call. The others had wisely left the continent. So it was he alone who assisted in thwarting the terrorists attempting to take advantage of the city and nation's fragile state.

Jeanette watched with admiration and pride the news coverage on her Captain. She shook away the endearment, though her staff looked at her fondly, as a mother whose child had gone too long unnoticed.

"Captain! Captain!" The channel 9 reporter hounded him mercilessly, and even as Jeanette scolded the woman in her mind, she longed to hear his voice. "Where will you go when this is through? Do you have a place to call home?"

"What a stupid question!" Jeanette barked. It was the middle of the day and her financial folder lay open before her, Tommy and Candice cleaning the bar and whispering. Not much had gotten done since Captain America was mentioned.

"Well, I suppose I'll head down to Dankeshene on 42nd for a bit of society when I'm through," he said with a half smile and a blush. Jeanette was silent, her mouth wide. Tommy and Candy were in her doorway immediately, mirroring her expression.

"What?!" Candy exclaimed, always the first to rouse. "What did he say? Did he just give us a goddamn _shout out_?! Good God Jeannie, you need to get on that," she said matter of factly and Jeanette wished to laugh, but she could only stare at his damn handsome face, which millions of people were sure to be watching at that very instant.

The club was packed that night, all hoping to see the Captain there. Not excluding the owner. A deep disappointment grew in her each hour he was not with her, but she closed the night content.

"Well boys and girls, I do believe that was the best night we've ever had," she said with a happy sigh as she counted out the drawer.

"Thank you Captain," Tommy toasted with what was left of the drink he'd been nursing all night.

Jeanette smiled secretly, "No, honey, this was our doing! We built this place. The credit lies with us. Cheers to you!" They never did need to much of a reason to celebrate, and turned the music back on for the three of them and gleefully danced for another hour or so, before sense returned to them.

* * *

Though Steve danced with her every night in his memory, he could hardly seem to get a few hours to himself in the weeks that followed to repeat the date. It seemed Fury had made him SHIELD's new PR face, as he was conveniently on hand, conveniently heroic and conveniently handsome. He attended and spoke at every police and government press conference and charity event held. There was always some good in it which his gentle nature could not deny.

The route to her club was so ingrained, so looked forward-to in his mind that after he successfully diffused a long and heartbreaking bank-robbery and hostage standoff, he did not think twice as he wearily plodded toward his destination.

* * *

They'd watched intently, all three of them on staff at the Dankeshene, after the doors had closed.

There were four hostiles to his one (and the NYPD, which was no force to be taken lightly, though he was the only one not taking cover). She sat at the edge of her seat in her office, Tommy and Desi hanging over her shoulder, nearly as invested as her, for the sake of their boss and friend.

"Let the ones with the armor go in you fool!" She screamed at the screen. "Don't be a hero!"

She realized the irony of her words and cursed him gently. Of course he would risk himself. Was he not the perfect soldier and the perfect hero? The standoff ended as The Captain delivered a swift blow to the leader, after talking him into getting close enough, and the NYPD took care of the rest. Though he took a graze to the shoulder, which left Jeanette clutching her own as if hit herself. She watched the coverage for another few hours, thirsty for every detail, but she hadn't seen her Captain in an interview.

"Where is he? Is he okay? Good God woman you wouldn't leave him alone before and now where is he?" Jeanette ground out in a frantic whisper. The wind of the street whistled and howled in the open doorway across the room but Jeanette thought nothing of it, never daring to even dream...

"He's here," Steve said. Jeanette jolted up and out of her seat as if shot through with electricity. In a way, she was.

"Good Lord..." she trailed off. He was exhausted, swaying on his feet, blood trickling down the arm of his blue uniform that was so tight as to leave very little to her very active imagination.

"Steve!" she had the audacity to call him as she rushed forward. He held out his good arm to her but she stopped just shy, not wishing to hurt him. Instead she took his hands.

"What are you doing here?"

He seemed a little confused, "I'm not exactly sure. I'm sorry..."

"No! Never! You need to sit down," she demanded, drawing him in and toward the nearest booth. "Desi, a burger and a tall glass of water. And a shot of the good scotch," she added as an afterthought, all of her attention on the hero who followed her, his weary eyes drifting from hers to the floor. Once he sunk down in the booth, leaning his elbows on the table, Jeanette crouched beside him, fingers hovering over the tear in his sleeve. He peeked at her from the corner of his eye.

She stood up quickly, as if she'd just shook herself out of some fog. "What else can I get you?" she asked, as she made for the bar, never taking her eyes off him.

"Nothing, thank you ma'am, I just need to rest."

She filled a bowl with warm water and brought a cloth over. She set the items on the table in front of him.

"You need a change of clothes," she murmured. "Stay here, I think I have just the thing."

"Oh that's really not...necessary," Steve trailed off as she disappeared up the stairs at the back of the room. She returned a few moments later with a pair of large sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt.

"Here," she said, holding them out to him. "I need to be able to get to your arm. Put these on," she said, pointing toward the bathroom in the far corner. Her tone brooked no discussion, and Steve was too weary and too grateful to refuse her kindness.

He emerged swaddled in stretchy cotton that smelled like her, and that alone made him feel nearly good as new, but for the stinging in his arm. Jeanette waited at the booth, wringing her hands. She took the bloodied uniform from his arms and set it on the bench.

"Sit," she said gently, and he obeyed. "Alright, let's see it," she said with a deep breath, as though she were bracing herself.

"You really don't have to do this. I should go back to base," he began to say as he rose, but Jeanette placed her small hands firmly on his shoulders and pushed him back down.

"Nonsense, I'm not letting you go anywhere in this state."

Steve smiled at her determination and pulled the sweatshirt back over his head. He winced a little and felt her helping him tug the garment off. She was holding her breath, and let it out slowly once she pulled the sweatshirt completely away.

The wound was not as bad as she'd been expecting, and it was an instant relief. It also allowed her the momentary reprieve to roam her eyes over his broad shoulders and defined chest. As lovely as the sight was, her eyes were always drawn back up to his, and she found him watching her with a small, happy smile. She cleared her throat.

"Yes, well, this is manageable," she said, and set about cleaning and bandaging the graze. In the meantime, Desiree placed a plate with a large hamburger heaped with fries in front of him, along with a large glass of water, a beer and a shot of amber liquid. The hamburger was still sizzling, and smelled fantastic.

Jeanette dressed his wound slowly, carefully and with shaking hands. After thanking her, he dove into his food, finding himself ravenously hungry and parched. He polished off everything as Jeanette cleaned up.

"Jeanette," he said, to draw her back to the table. She sank into the booth across from him, looking awed and covering up her weariness with a lovely smile. "I can't thank you enough."

"Nonsense. It's the least I can do. Now, you must be exhausted. There's a bed upstairs made up for you. And I won't take no for an answer," she said sternly as he opened his mouth to refute her. She stood and held her hand out to him, which he was all too happy to take. She led him up the stairs at the back of the club.

Once she had him lying on the spare Queen she had in the loft, she sat gingerly at the edge of the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was nearly asleep. He had not released her hand.

"Jeanette," he murmured before falling completely into blissful sleep. Her free hand hit her breast with a thump, both assuring her of affection and attempting to rouse her from her dream.

"This isn't real," she said quietly, as Desi knocked on the door.

Jeanette left the glass of water Desi brought at the bedside table of the attic apartment she sometimes used for late nights, hoping only to be of service to the man sleeping angelically in her old bed.

"What do we do now?" Desi asked.

"We wait for him to wake up," Jeanette said easily. "Go home, honey. Are you on tomorrow? I'll call you the instant he rouses, I promise."

With a devillish grin, Desi kissed her cheek, "Are you sure I shouldn't stay to protect him from you?"

Jeanette swatted her arm as her friend left. She sank into the seat Captain America had occupied only moments before, and rested her head on the table with a sigh. She closed her eyes, smiling. The last time she'd seen him, he made her feel like the shiniest diamond in the world. This time, she felt like a mountain of gold and jewels. She wondered how it could have gotten any better than dancing with him that night, but somehow it had. In his exhaustion and distress, he'd come to her, without even seeming to know it. She nearly dreaded the morning, fearing the dissipation of these feelings. Because, really, how could it get any better?

* * *

Up Next: An occasion to dress up and see Steve Rodgers in a tux! And Jeanette gets to meet the rest of the Avengers! Yikes!


	5. Chapter 5

Jeanette was downstairs doing some overdue cleaning when she heard a creaking on the stairs. She'd fallen asleep in the booth where she'd sat, and, despite her aching back, was thankful that she did, for she got a glimpse of her club that she'd never gotten before, and she intended to rectify a few of the ills that were unacceptable to her. She could only be thankful to the Captain for making these shortcomings come to light. Though she was not yet showered, nor had she put any makeup or clothes on. She stood behind the bar, panicked, in pajama pants made for comfort, not beauty, and a long sleeved thermal shirt she'd changed into upon waking, as she heard his footsteps descend the stairs.

Steve had woken up with purpose. After spending the night enveloped in kindness, warmth, and the flowery vanilla scent that Jeanette liked to wear, he was nearly delirious with the good charm of his gracious hostess. His arm was tender and sore, but no longer stung, and he was struck again with wave of gratitude for her. He'd intruded upon her terribly, and she reacted with grace and generosity. He was going to make it up to her, and he didn't care how long it took. In fact, he rather hoped it might take quite some time.

He stepped down into the main room just in time for her to turn her back to him, her curled hair flying about her shoulders to shield her vulnerable expression.

"Good morning," he said sheepishly. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have fallen asleep so quickly last night. I was so exhausted." She hadn't yet turned around to greet him.

"Oh no," she said over her shoulder, "You've nothing to forgive. I hope you're feeling well. Can I make you anything?"

He approached the bar. "No, thank you, you've done so much for me already. How are you this morning?"

She laughed nervously. "Well, I suppose," she said in resignation as she turned slowly, her face downcast. "I've only just woken," she said, as an excuse. When she timidly met his eyes, they were wide with wonder.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, and she blushed deeper than she ever had and felt the need to refute.

"Oh, please, I'm wearing no makeup, nor clothes for that matter."

He laughed in return, "Oh, please," he said teasingly, and she relaxed. "I'm so sorry for intruding on you last night. I hardly knew what I was doing."

"I was happy to help," she said softly. She met his stark blue eyes with a rawness she was sure she'd never shown.

"You know," he said, casting down his eyes, "Stark is throwing a party next week, he couldn't help himself. He never can vacation when his name is in the headlines. I wonder if you'd come with me?" he asked, his voice hopeful even as his eyes could not meet hers.

She nearly gasped at her good fortune, but managed to rein herself in. "There's nothing I'd like more."

He grinned a full, toothy grin. "Alright then, I'll pick you up at your house on Saturday at 8."

"I'll be there with bells on," she said with a smile.

* * *

She regretted her decision to accept his invitation as soon as the door closed behind him.

What would she wear, who would she meet, what would she say to embarrass herself? Chief amongst her plethora of fears, however, was her fear of The Captain himself. Despite all evidence to the contrary, her greatest fear was that he should grow tired of her, or find her dull upon further acquaintance.

By the end of that day, she'd nearly worried herself into a lather, but an affectionate and half hearted slap across the face from Desiree brought her back to herself. At least, partially. Instead of worrying about every detail of what was to come, she put it out of her mind completely. Instead of wondering what she would wear, or shopping for a dress, as Desiree suggested, she worked the bar. She danced with her patrons and closed the club with the others. She took the subway home and fell asleep on the couch in her frilly dress, unable to accept the ending of the day and the beginning of the next.

She dreamt of meeting Dr. Banner, Thor, Tony Stark and the others. They were all 10 feet tall, and dressed in their battle-wear, laughing down at her. She woke with a start in a cold sweat.

On Saturday, Jeanette woke full of all the worries that had initially plagued her. She dressed in her best evening dress, and did her makeup and hair before breakfast. She sat eating an egg and toast at her kitchen table in a purple tulled skirt and pearls. Once she finished her second cup of coffee, she looked down at herself and started to laugh.

"This is ridiculous," she said to herself. She was able to calm herself for a while, long enough to call her mother and be comforted. After lunch, she went dress shopping, and purchased three insanely expensive dresses, all of which she would need to return in order to make rent this month, even if she did end up wearing one of them.

She called upon her friend Kristi, also a hair and makeup artist. Once all of her clothes and jewelry were strewn about on the floor after trying on every combination of them, Jeanette was exhausted.

"It doesn't have to be this much work, you fool," Kristi chided her, as they took a coffee (and Bailey's) break. "Just wear that black dress. It's stunning, and he's going to love you no matter what," she said matter-of-factly, which soothed Jeanette a bit.

"I made that thing two years ago," she said.

"But you've yet to wear it. You always say it's too fancy for everything you go to. Well...!" Kristi gestured emphatically, as though all her problems had been solved.

She shooed her friend out after dinner, still in her bra and underwear, though Kristi had swept her hair up into a low chignon at the base of her neck and given her dusty eyes and red lips. Jeanette stared at all the clothes scattered on her floor for a while, before slipping her black dress over her head carefully. Made of wool, it was a sleeveless boatneck sheath dress with a slim pencil skirt that ended just below her knees. She had a pair of red pumps that matched her lipstick perfectly, and a black clutch. She sipped a glass of wine as she waited, and began to shake.

At 8 o'clock, there was a knock at her door. Jeanette nearly spilled her wine. "I should have started drinking earlier," she mumbled, as she answered the door on shaky legs.

It was sinful for a man to look as good as Steve Rodgers did, standing on her stoop in a tux with a long, skinny tie.

"Hello," she said quickly, not wishing to seem as star-struck as she was. She wondered how many meetings it would take for that to go away.

"You...look..." Steve said, dragging his eyes slowly up from her shoes to the top of her head. He smiled, not seeming to realize he hadn't finished his sentence.

"Oh," Jeanette said, breathless, "Well, thank you." She cleared her throat and channeled Audrey Hepburn with a coy grin, "You certainly look dashing."

She got a little thrill as a blush rose to his face.

A black car was waiting for them, and Steve held the door for her as she slid in. He was very good at assuaging her fears as they headed toward Stark Tower. He asked about her, the club, and any information he could get before they arrived at their destination. Their past two meetings they hardly had time for small talk. When they pulled up to Stark Tower, Jeanette tensed.

There was an actual, literal red carpet rolled out from the curb to the door. Velvet ropes lined the carpet, and paparazzi and fans crowded around them, eager for a peek at their heroes.

Steve chuckled, "Well that got out of hand quickly, didn't it? Stark never can do anything halfway." He placed a hand on hers. She tore her eyes away from the terror awaiting to relish the contact. "Don't worry, I'll be beside you the whole time. And you look absolutely beautiful, just in case I hadn't told you that yet," he said with a grin. For a moment, her worries vanished with that smile, but then he exited the car to open her door, waving off the driver so he could have the honor.

Jeanette clutched his hand so tightly she was sure she'd have to apologize later, as he drew her from the vehicle. He threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her toward the door. She smiled shyly as the cameras flashed in their direction and the fans shrieked for The Captain. He waved humbly at his admirers, throwing a demure smile at her, which made her grin.

Once safely inside, they rode the elevator past the business floors to the penthouse.

"Sorry about that," Jeanette said, stretching her tight knuckles and releasing his hand.

"That's alright. But I think you just stole my thunder," he teased. "There's going to be more photos of Jeanette Richmond than Captain America on the wire tomorrow."

She giggled. That's right, _giggled_. She felt as though she'd drunk that whole bottle of wine, and was glad she hadn't started drinking earlier.

The penthouse was a large, open expanse filled with gilded ladies and gentlemen. Steve took her hand again, and led her toward their host and hostess.


	6. Chapter 6

Jeanette looked around with wide eyes at the general splendor, and the European royalty and men in military uniforms in attendance. It was all just so surreal. She could hardly believe she was actually here. She must have done something right in a previous life to deserve such wonders.

"Steve, my faithful Captain!" Tony greeted with an emphatic gesture. Pepper gave him a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Tony, Pepper, this is Jeanette," he gestured to her. She shook their hands.

"The infamous God-punching Jeanette! I have heard a lot about you," Tony said with a suggestive eyebrow raise.

"And I've heard a lot about you," she replied, just as suggestively. He laughed.

"I'm so glad! Perhaps we can compare notes to make sure the Captain here hasn't been turning you against me from the start."

"I'd like that very much. _Someone's_ gotta keep him honest," she said playfully.

"Oh yes," Tony said after a laugh, "you'll do just fine." It may have been meant in jest, but it made Jeanette smile giddily.

Pepper pointed out the highlights of the room to her while Steve and Tony briefly caught each other up on their mini vacations. But the popular host and hostess were called away to greet other guests, and Steve steered Jeanette toward Dr. Banner, whom he'd spotted hiding in the corner.

"Dr. Banner," Steve greeted. The men shook hands with mutual respect. "I'm glad you came. I sort of thought you'd be halfway around the world by now."

"I was," Bruce admitted quietly. "But you know how he is," he said, gesturing in Tony's general direction. Jeanette was introduced to the gentle doctor, more than a bit awed. How could this quiet man become the beast she'd seen on TV? She supposed, appearances were deceiving. Somehow though, knowing that this side of him, the human side, was such a nice guy, made her think fondly of the green man.

Thor's booming laugh from close by had the room quieting momentarily, and with a fond smile, Steve took his leave of the Doctor and ushered Jeanette to meet the brother of the God who'd tried taking over their world.

"You'll enjoy him," Steve promised as they approached. Thor had opted for clothes of Earth tonight instead of his usual Asgardian garb. He made his tuxedo look scrumptious, and his shoulder-length blonde hair would have made any sorority girl envious. A beautiful brunette stood at his side, looking mildly uncomfortable, but at each touch of Thor's hand at the small of her back, sent loving looks up at him.

"Ah, Captain!" Thor greeted enthusiastically, wrapping Steve in a great hug. "How wonderful it is to see you again! I trust, by the beautiful woman at your side, that you're doing well?"

Steve chuckled, half embarassed. "Yeah, I'm great. Thor, this is Jeanette."

Jeanette shook his hand, unable to come up with anything witty to say, only a quivering smile.

"And this," Thor said with a flourish toward the brunette by his side, who appeared to be attempting to dissuade him from such a grand introduction, "is Jane Foster, my girlfriend!" he stated with such importance and grandeur as made Jeanette and Steve grin, and Jane blush furiously.

Jeanette and Steve shook Jane's hand. The women shared a secret smile, and Jeanette knew that she'd have to find Jane later on to hear every detail of how she met Thor and gush over their heroes. Who else could understand the amazing situation they were in? Jeanette was very much looking forward to it.

"Are Hawkeye and Romanoff here yet?" Steve asked.

"I saw the archer somewhere in the back, near the bar," Thor said with a sweep of his arm in that direction.

Jeanette and Steve bowed out in search of the assassins. Steve hadn't prepared Jeanette for any of this, and her senses had been so assaulted that she saw and heard and smelled everything with painful acuteness. It was all too beautiful and wonderful, she just hoped she would be able to remember every detail in the morning, and wondered how tacky it would be and if she could take a photo of something with her phone without being noticed.

"Clint!" Steve called to someone up ahead. "Clint's a great guy," Steve had but time to say to her before they reached him. Jeanette adjusted her hand in Steve's, since he'd released it only long enough to shake hands with a few people, and she worried her palm was starting to sweat.

"Clint, this is Jeanette," Steve said. Jeanette shook his hand softly.

"Pleasure to meet you," she remembered to say. The archer looked devilishly handsome in his tuxedo, as was the trend for the night. Though he looked a bit uncomfortable, his hand went to his neck every few minutes, as if he was dying to loosen his long black tie.

"And you," he said. "So you were the one who got to punch Loki in the nose?" he asked, a bit envious. Jeanette grinned, needing to glance at her shoes for a moment to collect herself before answering.

"Yes, that privilege was mine."

They chatted for a while. Thor and Jane wandered over to join them. Steve retrieved glasses of champagne for them, and Jeanette proposed a toast, because it felt like she should.

"To us," she said, full of good cheer and the beauty of it all. "May the evening never end."

She glanced to her left, where Steve was still holding her hand, their fingers loosely entwined. His glass touched his lips, but he did not drink. He looked at her with something akin to pride, and it made her feel 10 feet tall, as if to rival the heroes and God standing about her.

She was enjoying herself greatly. She had the chance to talk with Jane, while the three men commented on those in the room. The woman was brilliant, demure and humble, though she would have had every right to be boastful and proud, as gorgeous as she was. Steve had relinquished her hand, in favor of placing the flat of his palm against her lower back. Jeanette couldn't decide which she enjoyed most.

At one point, Jeanette had shifted away from Steve, at the unintentional behest of Jane. They were all listening to a story Clint was telling when the archer's voice hitched. They all glanced to where his gaze was anchored, as a red-haired woman came into view. As Natasha approached, Jeanette had the ill fortune to be standing next to Clint, and to be looking beautiful while doing it.

"Tash," Jeanette heard Clint whisper reverently as she approached. Natasha held his gaze as she crossed the floor toward them, looking like a blend of every perfect woman Jeanette had ever seen. Natasha nodded to her fellow teammates around her, before giving Clint a wide, mischievous grin.

"Oh no," Jeanette heard Clint whisper again, before the redhead's intense eyes were focused on herself.

"And you are?" she said, holding out her hand.

"Jeanette," she said, wanting to say 'Steve's date' but was unable to form words once her hand was crushed in the assassin's grip. Not harsh enough to break anything, just harsh enough to send a message. _Wow, possessive much?_ Jeanette thought idly. _I was only standing next to him._

"You look _adorable_, Jeanette. Did you make your dress?" Natasha said, as if she were a silly little girl.

"I did indeed," Jeanette said, without missing a beat, both infuriated and invigorated by the challenge. "Though if I'd known Sex Kittens was having a sale," she said and trailed off, gesturing vaguely to Natasha's tight black dress that was slit up the side practically to her hip. "You'll have to let me know next time."

Natasha's full, red lips came dangerously close to something resembling a smile, but she pushed it back. She gave Jeanette an arch look, and then swapped it to Clint.

"Clint," was all she had to say. He was unable to even nod a goodbye to them before trailing off after Natasha.

"Wooo-eeee!" Jeanette said once the assassins were out of earshot, leaning her shoulder against the wall, one hand on her hip and the other at her chest, as if she had just run a great distance. "That woman is _terrifying_! I love her," she gushed. Jeanette had never been in the presence of a more powerful woman. Of course, she could kill practically anyone in the room with her little finger, but she could command the entire room with simply a look.

Her circle of new friends laughed. Steve placed his hand on her back again and she grinned up to him, fighting the sudden and intense urge to grab his lapels and kiss him. Must be the adrenaline.

Pepper watched the exchange from across the room with interest and a soft smile.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Tony noticed. "It's not like I threw an awesome party or anything."

"She's a throwback," Pepper said, pointing with her glass of champagne toward the Captain and Jeanette.

"So is he," Tony said with a soft smile of his own, before pulling his girlfriend closer for a kiss.

The crunching of glass and ladies' screams instantly stilled everyone in the large room.

"Well, well!" An accented voice that Tony knew all too well chilled his bones. He had pushed Pepper behind him and had his suit on stand-by before Loki finished his sentence. "What a lovely party!"

* * *

Yes, I'm bringing Loki back. I'm just too lazy to come up with a new villain. Plus, I just kind of like thinking about Tom Hiddleston, you know?

Next up: A new face threatens to drive the Avengers apart!

Thank you so much to my reviewers! You are the icing on the cake :)

PS: I've published an ebook on Amazon! Search 'Nautical Miles' for a .99 cent smoldering thrill ride aboard a 17th century English pirate ship! If you like my writing style, you'll enjoy it!


	7. Chapter 7

To hear that voice again, so close, made a cold chill run through Jeanette. Before she could blink, the heroes about her melted away into the crowd, presumably, to surround the intruder.

"Stay in the back," Steve murmured to her before sliding away quietly.

"Back so soon, Loki?" Stark called. A clearing had formed in the center of the room. The guests had pushed together and away from the intruder, who was clad in his green and gold armor, though his intimidating helmet and scepter were thankfully not present. Loki stood in the center of the clearing, Stark stood across from him, stepping slowly closer. Despite Steve's very sensible request, Jeanette found herself drawing nearer. It was an unconscious movement. She would never, in her right mind place herself anywhere near the villain. But he was like a magnet, and she couldn't help herself.

"As long as my brother and his silly friends are together, I'll never get anything done," Loki said flippantly.

"So, what, you're going to kill us all yourself? Your entire alien army couldn't do that, remember?" Stark shot back.

"Ah, but you have a room full of very important people I'm sure you'd like to continue breathing."

A small gasp rippled through the crowd at the threat.

"And you," Loki said with a surprised look and a grin to somewhere just behind Stark. Stark turned to see Jeanette, the Captain's date, standing there staring at the uninvited guest with a thoughtful expression. "My would-be hostage. Too bad that didn't work out, hm?" he said, casting his eyes down her frame.

"Back, back, back," Stark whispered urgently, flapping his hand at her discreetly from his side. But there was something off about Loki, Jeanette thought. Maybe she was just close enough to the situation, but not too close, to see it. A slight shimmer just at his edges. A watery tone to his voice, which had been clear as a bell when he'd held her by the throat during the battle in New York.

"Do you have something he wants?" Jeanette whispered to Stark. He looked at her, confused but for only a moment, when his eyes showed understanding. "Where is it?" Jeanette asked.

The Tesseract was somewhere in space, as per the Asgardians' ruling. Loki's reasoning for being here was weak, unless it was to distract the Avengers, namely Thor, from an assault elsewhere.

Quite suddenly, Jeanette pulled off one red leather pump and hurled it with impressive force at the vengeful Demi-God's face. It passed right through him, the particles of his hologram rearranging after it, and fell to the floor with a clatter. Loki grinned that off-putting grin of his, pretended to lunge at the people to his right, making them jump, then disappeared with an eerie laugh. The room was still and dead silent for a beat.

"Thor," Stark called to set his friend into action, as he pulled his phone from his pocket and began tapping away at it. The guests in the room still didn't quite know what to do, so they stood frozen, until one woman in a pink dress fainted, and then the rest of them rushed toward the door in a disorderly panic, though the threat was gone.

"I'll contact Heimdall," Thor said over the din of the mad dash to exit, striding toward the back apartments.

Stark got director Fury on the line to explain the impending attack in some unknown portion of space, just in case there was anything he could do to help. It was entirely possible, SHIELD still had many secrets. Most of the guests had vacated, and Jeanette hobbled over to retrieve her shoe and yank it back onto her foot.

"What were you thinking?" Steve chastised softly, taking hold of her elbow from beside her. She sighed and melted into him, suddenly very exhausted and wanting nothing more than a bit of comfort. The loveliness of the evening, the adrenaline, plus the quick shot of fear and panic was making her a little dizzy. As she leaned her cheek into his chest, his arms came around her. "Can you just, maybe quit with the heroics, please?" he murmured softly into her hair. She grinned, and tilted her head back to look up at him.

"I will if you will."

He grinned at that, and because it seemed right, because she had now twice thwarted a villain, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She froze for a moment, but then did not hesitate to grab his lapels and pull him closer into her, as she had been longing to do. It felt as though fireworks exploded from her chest and shot into every corner of her body, down into her fingertips and her toes. Steve had splayed his hands across her back, trying to touch as much of her at once as he could, pulling her flush against his body.

"Ahem," Stark interrupted unapologetically. Steve pulled away from Jeanette gently and sheepishly. "Thanks for the heads up, 'Nette, but the Captain's gotta get to work."

Tony was still tapping at his phone, and Steve and Jeanette stared at him dumbly for a moment, dazed from the kiss.

"What can we do? The cube is in space," Steve said, still with one arm around Jeanette.

"'Nette?" Jeanette repeated, not impressed with the unimaginative nickname.

"Thor's going to go make sure the cube is where they say it is. Meanwhile, SHIELD headquarters has had a security breach. Apparently someone was trying to hack in and shut down their information system when I tipped Fury off to the shenanigans going down over here. So, suit up," he said, motioning his hands over the Captain's general area distractedly, then walking away.

"'Nette?" Jeanette said again, exasperated that he hadn't addressed her concern about this lame nickname. Steve didn't seem to pay too much attention to it either. He turned to her again, linking his fingers together at the small of her back.

"I'm sorry, I do have to go."

"Oh of course," she sighed, laying her palms over his chest, feeling his heart beating, pumping slightly harder and faster than normal. "You have worlds to save and battles to win," she smiled reluctantly up at him.

"I'll call a car for you," he said, but made no move to release her. In fact, he was drawing her nearer. It was all she could do to not wind her fingers into his hair and crush his lips to her. But she called on all her will power and patience and let him kiss her tenderly. He drew back with a contented sigh, and dotted a few more kisses along her jawline before pulling her under one arm and leading her toward the door. "Alright, let's get you home."

"Thank you for a lovely evening. You have wonderful friends," she said as he held the door of the black car open for her.

"It was my pleasure. I'll call you when I'm through with...whatever this is," he said, jerking a thumb behind him. Jeanette stifled a delirious chuckle; here they were saying goodnight like it had been a normal date, when really, she had socialized with superheroes and been threatened by a Demi-God. She placed a hand on his cheek and a kiss on the corner of his mouth, and then slipped into the car. If she got another kiss from him, there would be no stopping her.

At her apartment, she hated to take off her dress and admit the night was over, but she replayed all the moments she could remember over and over in her mind. Especially the last moments with Steve and his hot, gentle kisses. She took out her phone to text Desiree, and saw a photo of the buffet table on the screen. Of all the amazing things she could've snuck a photo of, she took one of the cheese platter. Typical. She didn't even remember doing it.

She grinned like a fool all the way to bed, and couldn't sleep for hours, for the excitement of the evening and the hope for all that was to come.

* * *

I know, slow chapter, but I wanted to get something up for you quickly! Holidays, you know, there's no time for anything but baking and wrapping presents!

Have a very Merry Christmas :D


	8. Chapter 8

By the time the Avengers arrived at SHIELD headquarters, the intruder had been apprehended. She was handcuffed in an interrogation room, and seemed dazed and a little confused, though still wary and guarded.

Fury, Stark and the Captain watched her from behind the one-way glass, each drawing conclusions of their own before sharing them. She wore a tight black leather suit, similar to the Black Widow's, but her belt and gun holsters had been removed. Her shiny black hair was pulled back in a strict bun atop her head, though strands were beginning to come loose and fall about her narrow face. Her large, almond-shaped eyes were a bright, icy blue, almost violet. She was beautiful, in a deadly sort of way. Her long, dark lashes and full lips gave her the femininity that her cold eyes lacked.

"She's awful rough in a fight, was all we could do to take her down. She killed twelve of my men before she ran out of bullets, and six more afterward," Fury said, not taking his eyes off her. "She took a hard hit to the head that knocked her out, and when she came to, she didn't seem to remember what had happened."

"Like with Barton," Stark said, and Fury nodded.

"But Thor said that Loki is still locked up on some moon somewhere. He couldn't have taken her over," Steve contested.

"Maybe there's someone else with the power of the cube," Stark offered.

Fury entered the interrogation room, while the two Avengers held back behind the glass. Slowly, he walked from the door and sat across from her.

"What's your name?" he asked, calmly lacing his fingers together and placing his hands atop the table.

"Oksana Grey," she replied, her stony gaze never leaving his.

"Who do you work for, Ms. Grey?"

"That information is classified," she replied. Fury checked his smile.

"Where did you learn to fight like that? The military?"

"I was an agent with the CIA until two years ago, when I was recruited into a different organization," she replied mysteriously.

"What different organization?" Fury asked, with a hard edge to his voice.

"That information is classified," she said again, matching his hard tone.

"If what you say is true, we're on the same team here. And if you think your 'organization' is going to bail you out, you're sorely mistaken. And if you think we're going to take you for your word, you'd be mistaken again. No one knows you're here. The laws that govern out in the real world don't apply in this situation. We're dealing with things you can't begin to comprehend," Fury threatened.

"Now, what do you remember about what happened?"

"I was on a mission, in Russia," she began begrudgingly. "I was casing my target, when I felt a shadow. And then...nothing. Nothing up until I woke up here," she bit out, clearly a little unnerved that she couldn't remember a damn thing.

The questioning continued in this manner, but she was little help in discovering who was pulling the strings behind the attack. Fury met Stark and Steve in the hallway.

"What do you think?" Steve asked.

"Hard to tell. The U.S. government trains exceptional liars," he said. He walked away, and Stark shot the Captain a pointed look, as if to say, Goddammit I thought this was all over, and followed him.

Steve paused in the hallway for a moment, casting a glance at the interrogation room door. He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt a pull toward the room. He thought maybe, if he could speak with her, he could get some answers. He was not an interrogator, and if Fury couldn't do it, what could a soldier with no training in captives do? Still, he scanned his hand and entered.

Oksana cast him a sideways glance.

"I've already said everything I know. It isn't much," she said, her dark, curved eyebrows drawing down in anger, or annoyance, Steve couldn't tell.

Steve sat across from her and set his hands on the table, mirroring Fury's position from earlier.

"What were you doing in Russia?" Steve asked. Oksana looked up, a little surprised at this detour in questioning. Steve felt a chill run down his spine as she held his gaze with her icy eyes.

"I was given a mission. A target to destroy," she said softly, then looked up sharply. Steve got the impression that she hadn't meant to say that. She swallowed hard.

"Look, I don't remember what happened," she said sternly.

"I believe you," Steve said quietly.

"You do?" she asked in disbelief. He nodded, then stood. She was intimidating and cold, but he'd thought that of Natasha too, at first. He took a step toward the door, but Oksana called to him, "Wait!"

She stood, and though she her handcuffs were chained to the table, she had about two feet of length. She used it all to walk over to him. Steve eyed her warily as she approached, but despite her coldness and all of the warning bells that were clanging in his mind, he did not step away.

"Thanks," she said softly, looking up at him through those impossibly long lashes. She slowly raised her cuffed hands, and placed her fingertips gently on his jawline.

Steve would remember nothing that followed.

* * *

Jeanette stared at her cell phone, willing it to ring.

"Careful, it might burst into flames if you stare too hard," Tommy said as he dried the dishes behind the bar at which she sat.

Jeanette sighed and batted her phone down the bar. "What can I do to help close up, T?" she asked.

"First, quit moping," he said pointedly.

"I'm not moping. It's only been three days, anyway. He's busy," she said to assuage herself.

"Second, wipe down the tables," he finished with an affectionate smile which Jeanette returned.

She lost herself in her work, as she was inclined to do, and loved every moment of it. The club was doing very well, thanks in no small part to the Captain's endorsement. The only thing that would make this time of her life better, was the man she'd fallen hopelessly, completely and irrevocably in love with. Yet he was nowhere to be found. Was this how it would be? Jeanette wondered. Crisis after crisis? He was a hero, after all. Could she stand the separation, the distance? Could she stand the constant worry for his life at the hands of the nation's, and world's, enemies? It took little thought to arrive at the answer. Of course she could. He was worth any amount of pain. And if he decided tomorrow that she wasn't cutting it as his girl, she would be glad to have had even the briefest of moments with him. She would curl into a ball and cry for a month, of course, but the love that swelled her heart and made her buoyant and glowing...yes, that was totally worth it.

* * *

"I don't know, Cap, are you sure this is a good idea?" Bruce asked, his eyes never leaving Oksana as she exited the unmarked black car and entered the building, escorted by three agents in suits. Bruce, Steve and Stark watched from the window of Stark tower.

"Yes, think about it, if she's here with us at all times, there's nothing she can do. We can watch her, try to figure out exactly what's going on with her," Steve said, still staring down at the street.

"How did you get Fury to agree to this?" Tony asked, clinking his ice cubes in his glass.

"I explained it to him. He found it reasonable," Cap said with a shortness, an edge in his voice that made Bruce look sideways at him.

"Really? Because it seems a little hair-brained to me. Letting a suspicious, mysterious, possible enemy into the nest?" Stark said sharply, taking an extra step into the Captain's personal space.

"Are we back here again? Not trusting each other? Look, I know you don't trust her, but you know me. I wouldn't do anything to put the team in jeopardy. I think we can learn something from her. And if not, well, she seems to be pretty good in a fight, we could use an extra hand if it comes down to it," Steve explained vehemently, then spun away toward the door, where the elevator dinged and their guest arrived.

"What makes you think she'd fight with us?" Stark muttered. He and Bruce shared a suspicious look as they greeted Oksana unenthusiastically.

* * *

Steve, Bruce, Tony and Oksana stayed at Stark Tower for the next two days. Thor stayed with Jane, and Barton and Natasha were somewhere in the city together.

Oksana showed up in the kitchen around mealtimes, led by Steve. She leaned against the countertop next to The Captain as Tony poured drinks at night. She was very open with them, telling them about her past, how she began her career as a spy, on secret intelligence and assassination missions. She spoke of it casually, and Steve never took his eyes off her.

Pepper was gathering some of her things to go stay with a friend, at Tony's behest. He did not trust that it was safe for her at what had somehow become the Avengers' loft. Pepper had a few things to say about that, too.

As she came up to the living room to say goodbye for the next however long, the bell rang. She pressed the button. "Who is it?"

"It's...It's Jeanette," her voice was tinny and uncertain. Pepper hadn't seen the petite woman in nearly a week, so she buzzed her up. The Captain must have asked her over.

"Alright, have fun you guys," Pepper said, pressing a kiss to Tony's cheek. "Jeanette's on her way up," Pepper said to Steve, who looked dismayed, which gave Pepper pause.

He leaned over and said something near to Oksana's ear, then stood and made his way to the door. Pepper shot Tony a look, but he shrugged, just as baffled at the display of intimacy. As Steve made it to the door, Jeanette entered. A bright smile lit up her face, but only for a moment.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered harshly.

"Oh, I just dropped by to say hello, make sure everything was alright," she said quietly, twisting her keys in her fingers. He'd never used that tone with her. She didn't even think it in him, and it made her blood run cold. "I tried calling," she whispered, her eyes downcast.

"You should go," he said sternly. Jeanette shot her eyes back up to him, shocked and more than a little hurt.

"Oh, of course, sorry to intrude," she mumbled and nearly sprinted out the door.

Steve returned to the group. "I should have called her before, but it slipped my mind," he said, trying for lighthearted and shooting a small smile at Oksana, who returned it.

"Tony, if you wouldn't mind, can I have a word before I go?" Pepper said, breaking the awkward silence with a sweet smile and thinly controlled anger.

"You can have as many words as you want, dear," Tony said, following her into the other room. Pepper whirled on him and punched him in the arm. He grasped his arm, as if hurt.

"Ow, woman, what's the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with _you_? There's something seriously wrong with Steve and you need to fix it!"

"What? How?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. But Steve would never have done anything like that last week. He was head over heels in love with Jeanette and you know he isn't one to take that kind of thing lightly. He's acting weird and Oksana has something to do with it. You need to talk to him. And get her out of our house!" Pepper said, and with another light punch just to show she was serious, she left.

* * *

Here's a long chapter for you and some discord amongst the team to keep it interesting! Thank God Pepper has some sense. Thank you, my dears, for the reviews! Happy New Year! :)

-A.B.


	9. Chapter 9

Three days after the incident with Steve, Jeanette's resolve was beginning to wear thin. Her friends noticed.

"You're wearing jeans," Candy pointed out gently one day at the club, when she expressed concern and Jeanette claimed to be 'fine.'

"Denim is an American wardrobe staple," Jeanette defended sharply after looking down at her high-waisted dark jeans and short sleeved button down shirt that was tucked into them. "Katharine Hepburn wore jeans."

"Do you remember the day you told me to slap anyone who compared anyone to any of the Hepburns?" Desiree shot back, just as sharply.

"Don't you dare," Jeanette seethed, remembering the day very well.

"I won't. But you only get one warning. Snap out of it, lady. This isn't like you," Des said, pointing a finger at her friend. Jeanette scowled, then softened.

"I've never felt like this before," she said, shrugging in helplessness. Her heart had been shattered into a million pieces. It was a miracle that she was able to get out of bed in the morning. She hated herself for her weakness, for allowing him to become such a part of her life that when he left it destroyed her.

"Then maybe it calls for something you've never done before. You should fight, Jeannie," Des pleaded.

"He made his decision. I'm not going to grovel," Jeanette said sternly, tilting her chin up. She would not become this person, one who needs another for happiness. She would _not_.

"It's not groveling, it's just not giving up," Desiree replied softly.

* * *

The Avengers had begun to learn more about Oksana. She appeared to be warming up to them, trying to be nice even, to gain their affection. She already had Steve's, for some goddamn reason. Tony grew ever more suspicious of her. He tried to talk to Steve, but once he finally got he and Oksana separated, Steve wouldn't hear a thing he had to say. It was as though he felt physical pain and anxiety when not within sight of the cold spy.

Tony expressed his concern to Thor, thinking the demi-God may have some influence, or be ready to fight her, if need be. But Thor was feeling remarkably docile.

"Perhaps she means us no harm, after all," he said thoughtfully. Tony bared his teeth, frustrated.

It had been four days, and Tony's patience had run out. This was his home and he did not feel at home in it. Steve, though apparently smitten, seemed tense all the time, tight like a piano wire ready to break. Their team was hardly a team anymore. There was a stranger in their den, and all the warmth and closeness that had grown amongst them had halted, and begun to fade.

Tony sought Bruce, expecting to find his support. Tony knocked on his friend's door.

"Bruce? Open up, we need to do something," he called hurriedly. He heard a crash and laughter, and swung open the door, alarmed, to see Bruce lying on the floor, covered in the things that had littered his nightstand, laughing. There was a brownie on the floor next to him.

"Are you high?" Tony exclaimed, torn between amusement and horror. "Who gave you this?" he asked, crouching and holding up the brownie. He sniffed it. Oh yeah, that was a pot brownie alright. "And why didn't they give me any?"

Bruce was able to sit up and through his giggles, said, "Steve gave it to me. Dude, it's so good. I just wanted some chocolate," he said, then peeled off into laughter again, falling back onto the floor.

Tony stalked out, to find The Captain. In the back of his mind he knew that Bruce would be no use in a fight, now. That must have been the intention. What other motivation could there be? But Steve? Why would he do that?

"Captain!" Tony shouted from the living room. Before he could yell again, his phone rang. "Hey Pepper now's not the best-"

"Tony," Pepper said breathlessly, "Tony, somebody broke-" she was cut off with a scream, then the line went dead.

"Oh God, Pepper," Tony murmured, and tried calling her back as he shouted to Jarvis to trace her phone. She, of course, didn't pick up, and Jarvis informed him apologetically that her phone had been destroyed.

Thor stormed into the room, hearing Tony's angry shouts.

"Tony, what is wrong?"

"Pepper's been taken. They destroyed her phone, I have to find her," he said hurriedly.

"Taken? By who?"

"I don't know, but they don't want money, or they would have made a demand. They only want to hurt me. I need you on this one, alright?" Tony said, as much of a plea as had ever left his mouth, as he geared up his suit.

Something trilled in Thor's pants pocket, and he seemed confused for a moment until he fished out his phone and answered it, as Jane had showed him.

"Thor!" Jane shrieked on the other end. "Help me, someone just ran me off the road! I'm upside down in the car, I think they might be coming back!"

"Where are you?" Thor said as he strode out.

Tony, not hearing the other half of the conversation shouted, "Hey, no no no, where are you going? Pepper's been taken, they could...they could kill her at any second!"

"Jane's in trouble. I must go to her. I am sorry, friend. Good luck," he said, and was gone. Tony suited up, shouting a string of curse words at his friend. He called Clint from the suit as he shot off toward Pepper's friend's house.

"Tony- we're in - have time- Russian mafia-," Clint shouted over what sounded like glass shattering, and the line went dead.

"Motherfuckers!" Tony screamed, beyond angry. They could come together to save their world, but what about _his_ world? Where were they when he was about to lose the only thing that ever mattered? Fuckers.

"Pepper!" Tony shouted, his mask rescinding as he blasted the door down. There, in the living room, Pepper and her friend sat, tied to chairs back to back.

"Oh thank God," Tony spewed, untying the handkerchief from her mouth and the ties from her hands and legs.

* * *

Tony was dressing Pepper's wounds in the kitchen, pressing kisses to her face wherever there was a scratch. Her sister was sleeping in one of the guest rooms. Pepper could offer no explanation. Neither of them had seen the intruder. There was no demand for money, no words at all. The attacker had left as soon as they'd made Pepper call Tony. It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Someone was attacking them, but who and why? Fury had been notified and had a team looking into it.

Just then, Oksana and Steve came into the kitchen. Oksana was smiling, and Steve looked a little bit dazed. He seemed ill, as though he hadn't eaten or slept in a day or so.

"Oh, back so soon?" Oksana said flippantly as she crossed to the refrigerator and plucked out a bottle of water, paying no attention to Pepper's battered face.

"You," Tony seethed. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Hey!" Steve said, coming suddenly to life and stepping up next to Oksana, "Take it easy."

"Me? Don't tell me to take it easy! Your girlfriend is attacking us!" Tony shouted.

"Don't be ridiculous," Steve scoffed.

The door buzzed as the men were shouting at each other and Pepper slid off her chair and backed away from the others to answer it, but Oksana got there first and shoved Pepper back. She fell to the ground with a shout and Tony whirled on her.

He lunged toward her to grab her arms and wrest her to the ground, but she evaporated from under his hands. Like a hologram, just disintegrated. Like Loki.

Steve leapt onto Tony, enraged that he'd tried to harm Oksana, paying little attention to the fact that she had disappeared from the room. Pepper hauled herself up and smacked the door button to let, presumably, Fury or his agents in to aid them.

"Jarvis call Thor!" Tony shouted to the room.

"You think he'll come to help you? This pathetic team only works when it's convenient for everyone. None of you know what sacrifice is," Steve spat. The words were not his own, he wasn't even in his body anymore. Who had taken him over? Was it Oksana, or Loki, or someone else entirely?

Steve and Tony traded blows, knocking each other down and into all of the furniture, breaking all the things that were able to be broken. Pepper screamed with each hit Tony took, until one blow knocked him down and he struggled to get back up.

"No!" she screamed.

"Get...out...of...here...woman!" he growled, and Pepper skirted along the wall toward the door. Steve shifted his attention from Tony to Pepper as she moved, and caught her arm before she could escape. He hauled her back against his chest and swiped a large shard of glass from the ground, pressing it against her delicate neck.

"No!" Tony gasped breathlessly, up on his feet instantly, the pain in his own body forgotten.

"Easy now, you'll stay where you are or I'll cut her throat."

"Steve! Goddammit Steve come back! This isn't you," Tony pleaded. He saw a movement from the corner of his eye, but did not dare check who it was. If Thor had saved Jane by now and made it back, he didn't want to give away his position.

"Oh this is me, this is the best me I've ever been," Steve drawled, chuckling darkly. "Now we're just going to wait here for a moment, until we have the cube safely in our possession. Wouldn't want you jetting off to save the world again."

"Our? Who are you working with?" Tony asked, to buy some time for whoever had entered the room. If it was Thor, wouldn't he have burst in with his big ass hammer and started smashing things already? Stealth wasn't really his style. And Oksana had apparently gotten the assassins caught in a firefight somewhere in Russia.

"We don't know his name, but we don't care. We'll have innumerable power once our end of the bargain is fulfilled," Steve said, his expression becoming more twisted by the second, morphing into someone dark and evil.

Suddenly, Tony saw a large frying pan raised up above Steve's head and come crashing down on him. He crumpled to the floor and Pepper pushed out of his embrace and into Tony's. Jeanette stood behind the Captain clutching the frying pan in both hands, looking shocked and horrified.

"You son of a bitch!" she screamed down at him, then dropped the makeshift weapon to kneel beside him and tenderly examine the wound she'd inflicted.

"Jeanette, we have to go," Pepper said, drawing Jeanette away from Steve.

"No, Steve, I'm so sorry," Jeanette murmured, halfheartedly trying to twist out of Pepper's hands.

"Get her out of here," Tony instructed, and Pepper happily complied. Tony hauled the Captain into the infirmary, where he strapped him into a cot. Jarvis informed him over the intercom that Jane and Thor had safely arrived.

"What happened, Tony?" Thor said as he rushed into the room.

"Our faithful Captain turned on us," Tony spat, a little bit bitter that he'd had to do this alone.

"I am sorry I was not here to help. Jane..." he trailed off, not having the words to express that he would die, would kill, for her.

"I know, man," Tony said, understanding the feeling. "It's ok. Jeanette got him good over the head with a frying pan."

Thor cocked his head, confused, but Tony waved him off. "You need to go make sure that cube is where it's supposed to be. He said something about keeping us occupied until they could get to it."

Thor sprinted out of the room and Tony turned back to the Captain. The darkness had left his face and he was Steve again, youthful yet still a little too serious. He was going to hate himself when he learned what he'd done. And the burden of telling his Captain the whole story rested with him.

Tony sighed in a combination of relief and dread as Steve's eyes fluttered open.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews y'all! This is the first time I haven't had a story completely written beforehand, so I apologize for the delays. Have a great weekend!

-A.B.


	10. Chapter 10

Fluff to make up for the last chapter :)

* * *

Steve groaned as he tried to open his eyes. His head was pounding. Bursts of white and bright colored light flashed before his eyes, fragmented and choppy. He felt a terrible nausea, combined with a sense of dirtiness that made his hands clammy.

"Welcome back, Captain," Tony said nonchalantly from where he stood leaning against the cabinets in the small, white infirmary.

"Stark?" Steve said. His throat felt hoarse and he was suddenly parched, starved and sore all over. "What the hell happened?"

Tony poured a glass of water and released Steve from the bonds around his wrist that he hadn't really noticed were there. In his hazy state, he realized something terrible must have happened to him. He drank the entire glass of water Tony handed him.

"You've been a real dick, dude," Tony said, leaning his hip against Steve's cot.

"What happened?" Steve demanded, feeling a tight knot of panic begin to bloom in his chest.

"What do you remember?"

"I...I remember going to see that woman spy who tried to shut down SHIELD. And then...nothing," he said quietly, with dread building in him. If Tony didn't spill the details _immediately_, he was going to scream.

"She made you into a puppet, the way Loki took over Barton. She appears to have control of some sort of power source resembling the cube, but not the cube itself. She was using you to try dismantling the Avengers in order to get it," Tony said quickly, sensing the Captain's frustration and anxiety.

"How long...?"

"A week."

"Where's Jeanette?" he asked suddenly, new panic washing over him. If he had not been himself, he probably hadn't spoken to her at all. She probably thought he'd brushed her off. It made his stomach roll with dread. Whatever else happened, the Avengers could handle, but he could _not_ lose her.

Steve realized Tony was hesitating to answer and his eyes widened in fear.

"Oh God what did I do?"

"You may have told her off, and then she may have hit you in the head with a frying pan," Tony said lightly, with a grimace.

"Oh God," Steve repeated, sitting up and swinging his feet onto the floor. He leaned his throbbing head into his hands. "That's what brought me back isn't it?" he mumbled dazedly. What had Natasha called it? Cognitive recalibration? God, she'd saved him three times now, and he'd told her off? Steve scrambled off the cot, stumbled to the sink and vomited.

"I feel you, friend," Tony said sympathetically with a pat on the back. "But, I gotta go make sure Thor got to the cube in time to protect it. I'll send someone up to take a look at you," he said as he jogged out.

As soon as Tony was out of sight, Steve slowly made his way upstairs, leaning heavily on the wall for support. He had no idea where his cell phone was, but he managed to locate a landline in Tony's living room. He dialed Jeanette's number, now memorized, but she didn't answer. He left a frantic message.

"Jeanette, it's me, Steve, the real me. I am..." Sorry seemed inadequate, but he wasn't eloquent enough to come up with a word that encompassed his horror, "so so sorry for what happened. Tony told me what I did and...God, I'm sorry. Please, call me back on this number if you can and let me explain." He hung up after a hesitation in which he debated pleading again, but decided it would do little good.

* * *

Five days later, Jeanette was still hiding out at the club. She hadn't gone home, too afraid to be alone with her thoughts, though they invaded her mind anyway as she wiped down tables and danced at night.

She'd gotten a total of twenty-two messages from Steve from various numbers. In each of them he was contrite, apologetic and increasingly panicked. She realized that he was afraid. But of what? Afraid of losing her? She wasn't anybody, why should he be so concerned? And didn't he have missions to go on and worlds to save, wars to end? He was a superhero. A. GODDAMN. SUPERHERO.

She understood, really she did. It wasn't him who dropped her like a hot potato, told her to her face to get lost and then threatened to kill Pepper. But that man had shown her what it would be like to lose the real Steve. She'd thought, not a week ago, that any pain would be worth having him for whatever amount of time he should choose, but now she was not so sure. Not hearing from him had crushed her. Then, hearing a few simple unkind words from his mouth had nearly driven her mad.

How would she handle letting herself fall even more in love with him, and then to lose him? Simple: she couldn't.

"Jean!" Desi said loudly at her left. Jeanette jumped, and then glared at her friend. She was in the kitchen taking inventory and letting her mind wander, as she was wont to do.

"He's here," Desi said softly. Jeanette's eyes widened, and darted about the room for a means of escape, but there were no doors that wouldn't lead her out into the club, where he was waiting and would surely see her.

"Tell him I'm not here," Jeanette whispered wildly.

"He knows that you are," Desi replied apologetically. "You have to go at least talk to him. Get it over with. Closure, right? Please?" Desi begged, having heard the full details of the incident and Jeanette's tortured ramblings when they had quiet moments together.

"Okay, fine, just give me a minute," Jeanette replied harshly, hating that her friend was right. She couldn't just keep hiding.

"No, go now. Jeanette, you will sit back here for hours putting it off if I let you. Don't bother, we both know it's true," Desi interrupted when Jeanette opened her mouth to protest. "Now go," she demanded, practically pushing Jeanette out the door.

Steve stood just inside the door of the club, looking anxious. He wore his brown leather jacket, and a green plaid shirt tucked into dark jeans. Jeanette nearly burst into tears on the spot. She'd missed him so much. His kind eyes, bright smile, and that general goodness about him that made her want to live up to it. She had no idea what she was going to say to him. He was staring at her, looking a bit shocked, as she was sure she looked as well.

"Jeanette," he began, and she closed her eyes in blissful torture at the sound of her name crossing his lips. "I can't even begin to properly apologize-"

"No," Jeanette said, stopping him. It was good to see another expression on his face other than pain, even though it was confusion.

"You don't have to apologize anymore, you've apologized thoroughly enough. I know that whoever said and did those things, wasn't you."

Steve let out the breath he'd been holding for five days. It had been agonizing, to be away from her. He'd barely slept. After learning that the cube was indeed safe, though Oksana was nowhere to be found, he'd called Jeanette, much to his and all of his friends' embarrassment, at least twice a day to beg for her forgiveness. He'd thought she'd be furious with him, and though he was happy that she was not, it begged the question, why hadn't she returned his desperate calls?

She was looking more beautiful than ever in a plum-colored, high waisted knee-length skirt that flared out gently toward the bottom, and a white lace blouse over a white camisole. Her lovely brown hair was playing about her shoulders in soft curls that made Steve's fingers itch to touch them. He was even enchanted by her shoes, cone-heeled T strap pumps in a dark forest green. She looked so perfectly out of the 1940s that his heart ached.

"But Steve, I don't know if I can-" she began to break his heart, but he couldn't let her finish. He crossed to her quickly and had her hands in his, gathered up by his heart.

"Please don't. I need you," he begged.

"You hardly know me," she refuted, startled by his sudden nearness, and the way it was making her breathless.

"I know you well enough, and I want nothing more than to know you better," he said sincerely, and a blush came into his face when he realized how absolutely intense he sounded. But he had to make her understand that she was the only thing that gave him hope. He would have lived his life, saved as many worlds as needed saving and been honored to do it, but she made him look forward to tomorrow, she made him feel like he was home again.

"I want to know everything about you," he said, and then he laughed because it was just so ridiculously unfair, for him to love another person so much that it physically _hurt_ to have to restrain himself from touching her. "Just one more chance, Jeanette, please?" he begged.

Jeanette felt absolutely torn in two, and was sure it showed on her face. He clutched her hands to his heart, and she felt it beating heavily in his chest. The depth of his emotion startled her.

"I wish I could believe you," she whispered, drawing slowly out of his grip, training her eyes on his hands to avoid his broken expression. "But what happens a year or two down the road when it falls apart? You're a hero! No," she laughed, "a _super_hero. You're going to be flying all over the world, hell, to other worlds probably, to fight God only knows what. Not to mention the fact that every woman on the face of this planet wants to bear your children. What about that? There are five million reasons this won't work," she ranted as she paced, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.

Steve was smiling and it was a bit disconcerting to Jeanette. He was smiling because her objection was that she thought he would leave her. That she would love him and he would hurt her.

"I can't say what'll happen. I will be in danger a lot of the time, but you're right I suppose, I am a superhero. I'm not as breakable as most men, and I've got a pretty incredible team at my back. And you're brave, you can handle that, you know you can," he said calmly, stepping toward her as one would a frightened animal. Her eyes shifted about the room, as if to dart away. Her could literally hear her heart pounding, and he knew he had her.

"And as for the other thing," he said, drawing ever nearer, as Jeanette retreated until her heels bumped against a barstool, "I will never, _never,_ hurt you. You're the only thing I can see. And there's nothing I can do about it. If this falls apart, it'll be you leaving me, because," his breath hitched over the next words and he slid his fingertips along her jawline to cup her face, "I've fallen so hard for you I'm afraid there's no going back."

Jeanette would have melted into a puddle right then and here, but Desi sobbing from the kitchen brought her back from the edge, though just barely.

"I love you," she had but time to whisper before his lips crashed onto hers. A feeling seemed to explode in his chest then, and it seeped into every cell of him, calming his anxious nerves, making him feel warm and safe. Jeanette's arms wound around his neck and he pulled her impossibly close, wanting every inch of her against him as he kissed her.

When her lipstick had been kissed away, but her lips were red and swollen anyway, Steve trailed kisses along her jawline to her ear, where he hooked his chin over her shoulder and hugged her to him. She let out a shuddery breath into his shoulder, all the tension and anxiety she'd been holding inside for over a week drained completely away and her knees felt incredibly weak. She started to laugh, and the relief was so great that Steve laughed too. They shook together giggling until it subsided and he pulled away to look at her again. The sight of her grinning with bright eyes and well-kissed lips made his heart swell.

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?" he asked, holding her face in his hands as though she were the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

"I'd be delighted," she replied softly, and he kissed her tenderly again.

* * *

HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

Thanks everybody for reading :)


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